What is your definition of Cringe?

 

!! This article is edited by ChatGPT !!

Cringe. It’s one of those words that’s tossed around constantly these days, but what it means—and how we feel about it—varies so much from person to person. For me, cringe isn’t about laughing at someone for making a mistake, failing at something, or just being awkward. Instead, it’s about something deeper: a fear of lacking self-awareness, of being disconnected from reality.

Take a TikTok video of someone pouring nut cream on their face. Do I cringe? Not really. I just think, Why is this person doing this? Maybe they’re trying to go viral. Maybe they need to pay rent and this is their hustle. It doesn’t matter to me—it’s not embarrassing because they seem to know what they’re doing and why they’re doing it. Some people might label it as cringe, but I see it as a deliberate choice, whether I get it or not.

But there’s another side of cringe—when it involves people or ideas I’m connected to. Let’s say I love philosophy (and I do), and I see a self-proclaimed philosopher saying something like, “If you’re alone, that means you’re right, because only the lone wolf walks the true path.” That, to me, is cringe. Why? Because it’s not about seeking truth or contributing to meaningful thought. It’s about trying to look cool, pretending to be wise when it’s really just empty posturing.

When this happens, I’m not embarrassed for the person. I don’t feel secondhand shame. Instead, I imagine myself in their shoes, doing or saying something like that, and I feel embarrassed for who I would be in that situation. The idea of me being someone who lacks self-awareness, who can’t recognize their own limitations—that’s what really gets to me.

For me, cringe isn’t about failing. It’s not about trying and messing up. Everyone fails. Everyone embarrasses themselves at some point. And honestly? That’s not just normal—it’s healthy. Karaoke, botched backflips, awkward first tries at something? None of that is cringe. It’s just life.

The real cringe comes from a lack of self-awareness. Imagine someone who sings karaoke terribly but thinks they’re a world-class vocalist. Or someone who attempts a backflip, fails miserably, and then insists they’re still an acrobatical genius. It’s not the failing that’s cringe—it’s the denial of reality.

I think what scares me most about cringe isn’t other people. It’s the idea of me losing touch with reality. Of becoming someone who doesn’t understand their own strengths and weaknesses, who can’t see themselves clearly. That’s why when I see someone who fits my definition of cringe, it hits differently. It’s less about them and more about the fear of being like them.

But here’s where it gets messy: the internet. Social media has turned cringe into this weapon people use to shame anyone who dares to try something new, especially if they fail. People like PewDiePie (no hate, just an example) will label a failed attempt at something as cringe when it’s really just normal human behavior. Trying something new and failing isn’t cringe—it’s growth. But this constant fear of being labeled cringe makes people afraid to take risks, to put themselves out there.

For young people, this is dangerous. If we’re too scared to fail, we stop trying. We stop learning. We stop living. The problem isn’t the failure—it’s how we interpret it. If you’re self-aware, if you know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it, then even failing isn’t cringe. It’s just part of the process.

The only real cringe is arrogance. Thinking you’re amazing when you’re not. Denying reality when it’s right in front of you. But even then, if that person learns, grows, and gains self-awareness, there’s nothing to cringe at anymore.

Cringe, for me, is personal. It’s tied to how I see myself, how I hope to never lose touch with reality. And while everyone’s definition of cringe is different, I think we’d all be better off if we stopped using it to mock people who are just trying, failing, and figuring things out. That’s not cringe. That’s life.